


the head full of cornflowers

by QueenOfSkaro



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, accidental proposal, hurting!Bilbo, oblivious!Thorin, saviour!Thorin, wee!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfSkaro/pseuds/QueenOfSkaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saving someones life is a sure sign for an upcoming marriage. Everyone knows that!<br/>Well, not really, because it's just a hobbit thing. Not that Bilbo was aware of that.</p><p>And so he's waiting, waiting for over thirty years for his saviour to come and get him,<br/>sweep him off his feet and marry him. </p><p>The day comes and Bilbo can't believe he was seeing his dwarf again, after all this time -<br/>just to find that his betrothed has absolutely no idea what should transpire between them<br/>or who the fussy little hobbit was in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Danica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danica/gifts).



> I'm trying my hands at a little prompt from HKM, but I really can't make any promises about the update rate, sorry.
> 
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/13429.html?thread=24429685#t24429685

Ohh, his Pa was sure going to have a fit when he told him, Bilbo thought. It hurt to think in general right now, but he just couldn't unthink it, now that he thought about it. His Pa was going to be mad, it just wasn't proper at all. His Ma would probably be pretty proud of him and knit him a whole lot of blankets because it was sure going to be very cold. Damp too, he guessed. He never was too keen on caves, even when he was exploring them with his cousins and the thought of living in one let him shudder.

"Calm down, little one. There is a healer right over the hill, you're going to be fine.", came a gruff voice from above him and he blinked a few times to see his saviour. His husband. Well, not now, of course, he was still too young for such a thing, but he would be his husband when the time came and he came of age. Not even fifteen years from now and he would be living in a damp, cold cave with nothing but old bones and stone and a dwarf for company! He wimmered and buried his face in the strong chest of his future-husband. 

"Don't wanna freeze.", he whispered. "Mama has to knit me blankets. She just has to."  
His dwarf-betrothed stopped walking in that brisk pace that had his head jingling and peered down at him, a little curiousity but mostly worry standing in his deep blue eyes. Bilbo liked blue. His favourite flowers of all flowers were cornflowers. It wasn't the exact same shade, but he guessed it could have been worse. 

The dwarfs forehead got all wrinkly like his Pas everytime the Sackvilles came over and Bilbo thought he was talking unclear, so he tried to specify.  
"In the cave where we gonna live in. It's gonna be cold once we're married."  
The forehead just wrinkled more and the not-cornflower blue eyes narrowed.

"What in Mahals name are you talking about?", grouched the dwarf, but he continued to walk again, taking his eyes off Bilbo and back onto the little path between the hills the hobbit grew up in. And he thought himself quite grown up already, thank you very much, with him being betrothed and all! His head hurt again, really bad this time and the wimmer caught in his throat. He lifted his hand to his forehead, only to have it come back covered in blood. Oh yes, the dwarf had saved his life alright! There was no way he would have found his way alone to a healer. Without his future-husband he would probably still bleed out under that dratted tree he fell from.

"Whatcha name?", he asked, because he had already forgotten again that his saviour had asked him a question. And even if he could remember, his question was so much more important then the others, seeing that the dwarf was sure to think of their marriage once all the excitement died down a bit and he wouldn't have to worry about his little spouse on the deathbed. Or arms, because he was still being carried and he buried himself into the others chest again, smearing the darkblue tunic full of blood.

"My name is Thorin. And what is yours, little one?", Bilbo heard his dwarf rumble, could even feel it on his cheek, but he was tired now, so tired, so he just closed his eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of cold caves and his fathers wrinkly forehead and knitted socks from his Ma.


	2. Chapter 2

Thirty years passed quietly - way too quiet for Bilbos liking, but it wasn't proper to complain, so he left it and let everyone forget that this wasn't the life Yavannah wanted for him. He was an adult now, the master of Bag End since his parents passed away and he was too old to still dream about a certain black haired dwarf by the name of Thorin who was strong and steady and had eyes almost the color of cornflowers. And if he stayed a bachelor even after a few beautiful lasses - and lads - wanted to court him, no one talked about it. Not even after he planted his front garden full of little blue flowers.

No one really talked about Bilbo Baggins anymore - not to his face, at least.   
There was an uproar as the little boy came back home after bumping his head really bad, telling stories about his future-husband and his upcoming life with dwarves. But custom was custom, so they all accepted the fact that Bungo Baggins son would marry a dwarf once he came of age, even when said father looked as if he'd eaten a whole basket of lemons for almost a month. 

But his coming of age came and went and no dwarf came to get him, no wedding was held and while the others tried to placate him in the beginning, they soon lost interest in the weird little hobbit that not even a dwarf seemed to want.   
Bilbo did the only thing he was capable of in his situation. He stacked the blankets his mother had knit in a cupboard, only ever to be opened again when he wanted to feel even sadder than he already was, shoved his dreams and hopes alongside them and grew up. Because being betrothed didn't mean you were an adult yet. Being spurned, on the other side, helped alot. 

It was another few years until he could think of his dwarf - and he would always be his, in his mind, because that nobody could take away from him - without shedding a tear or two, without questioning his self-worth or going over their meeting to determine what he did that kept his dwarf away from him.   
He planted the cornflowers to prove himself that it didn't hurt anymore, but that was just half of the truth. It was a statement, too, a sign for all who wanted to see it. He would always be Thorins, even if his dwarf didn't want him. He would stay faithful for as long as the black haired held his heart and Bilbo couldn't see that changing in the future.

Everyday the hobbit sat in his garden smoking his pipe, looking over flowers that weren't even the right color.

Bilbo Baggins grew up and over the years there wasn't much convincing needed that his dwarf just didn't want him. That was, of course until one evening twelve dwarves raided his pantry and the little voice of a lovesick fauntling came back into his mind. And then, when dwarf number thirteen knocked his heart felt like bursting with newfound hope. 

Until, of course -  
"He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."  
\- there was absolutely no sign of recognition in his dwarfs eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished writing the story, so you know it's going to come to an end   
> and isn't going to be abandoned.   
> And soon, too, because it's just over 5000 words, just a little warning.  
> Now, have fun.

He followed them, of course, even after he had tried to keep away from the offer. It would only bring more ache to his already battered heart and he didn't know quite how much it could take anymore.   
But as he woke up in the morning and Thorin was gone again he couldn't think of anything worse than to continue living without his - well, not really his, of course, and the black haired would probably cuff him or insult him some more should he ever hear him say it aloud, but it was ingrained in his every pore and he couldn't just shut it down. Thorin was his and he, equally, was Thorins, even if the dwarf didn't know.

So he ran after them, not much possessions in his bag beside a few spare clothes and one of his mothers blankets and tried to get to know the king in exile - a king, of course he wouldn't want Bilbo, he thought. That's what he told himself every night he lay under his blanket, trying to get comfortable on the hard and cold ground. His dwarf just didn't want him because he was a royal - it wasn't anything Bilbo had done. The other didn't even remember their promise.

He made friends with a few of the dwarfs - maybe that was a little exagerrated, but he still liked to think of it that way - and tried to be useful, but in the end he just got them almost eaten by trolls and Thorins unkind words hurt more than they should, seeing that he already knew they were coming. 

Rivendell had the older Durin in a bad mood all the time, so Bilbo did the only reasonable thing and stayed out of his way, just like he already learned was the best way to fare with him. It was a good thing, too, because he got to admire the beautiful gardens of the elves and their library and countless books. It was almost worth the scathing glares Thorin sent his way every chance he got. Almost.

And if he Bilbo thought that his heart was hurting already he got proven wrong quite spectacurlarly, on a steep cliff beside fighting stone giants, right after almost dieing - twice - as Thorin told him in no uncertain terms that he just wasn't welcome, would never be and that it would have been best if he had just stayed home.  
And Bilbo wondered if maybe he wasn't right, after all, because he couldn't imagine that it would hurt more to live without Thorin than it did to live with him. 

And if maybe there was a short moment, a brief span of time that stretched over the whole situation with wargs and pale orcs that should long be dead, where he thought that it wouldn't be quite so bad if he just didn't survive now, then no one needed to know that.


	4. Chapter 4

"I have never been so wrong, in all my life."

No, it was sure to say that Bilbo didn't have any idea how to respond to a situation like this. He basked in the warmth of Thorin without even thinking about it, going so far as to respond to a hug he never thought to recieve, but deep down he really wasn't sure what exactly was happening right now.

Did Thorin maybe recognize him, now that he was the one whose life got saved? Or maybe not, maybe it was just a new promise of marriage, one the dwarf wouldn't forget, perhaps. The rest of the company sure seemed happy to see them hugging, but Bilbo was careful with his interpretation of dwarvish reactions. 

Thorin loosened their hug and the hobbit felt the pang of loss sharp in his chest, but he just scolded himself for it. Just because he was nice now didn't mean that anything had changed. Maybe those magic tricks Gandalf had worked on him to wake him up were mugging up his senses.

He wasn't sure what he said as an answer, because his brain was still hung up over the fact that maybe, maybe Thorin didn't hate him quite so much and perhaps there really was hope now, but the dwarfs attention was quickly diverted and even if Bilbo had never been there, in Erebor, it sure looked like a giant cave he could imagine himself living in. He even managed to keep the blanket his mother knitted for him through the whole ordeal of the last days, however he managed that, but it was safely tucked away in his bag.

They descended the steep staircase along the Carrock, how Gandalf had called it, to get down and set up camp and Thorin didn't look once in his direction. Maybe nothing would change, Bilbo sighed inwardly. But even if it would stay the same he had the memory of his dwarfs heartbeat right under his ear and his rumbling voice on his cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

Alright, Bilbo decided, enough was definitely enough. It almost bordered on creepy and while the hobbit was positively elated over the fact that Thorin seemed to really try to make an effort, he just didn't know how to respond to it.

It started right on the evening in the camp at the base of the Carrock, after they all washed up in the river and checked over what few belongings they managed to keep. Bilbo wanted to give his blanket to Fili and Kili, seeing that it was big enough for two and the boys were practically children - even if they were older than him, as long as they acted like children he would see them as such - but he got snarked at for it, of course from Thorin. The same dwarf that seemed to really try to reign in his temper after seeing the flinch he got as response from the hobbit and who continued with a much softer voice.   
"You will keep it, Master Baggins. It is going to be cold at night in this part of the world and you are going to need it."

And even while everyone could interpret it as a clear sign that the darkhaired still didn't think Bilbo capable of surviving in the wild, the hobbit tried to see it from a different angle. Maybe Thorin just didn't want him to be cold.

It continued the next day as they started the march to Gandalfs friend and Thorin told him to walk beside him. The pace was brisk, like he already knew it was, but the dwarf walked stiff and flinched every so often, clearly in pain.   
"Do you want us to rest a little, Thorin? It's not good for your wounds -", Bilbo started, but he was cut off.  
"My wounds are none of your concern, halfling!", the dwarf snarled and his shoulders sagged dejectedly.  
"What I meant is...", Thorin continued, voice rough with restrained anger, "...that you shouldn't concern yourself with it, Master Baggins. It is only half as bad as Oin made it out to be and it will heal in no time."  
Bilbo just nodded, a little surprised, and they kept walking in silence.

In the evening Thorin sat down next to him by the fire, a little joint of a rabbit in his hand and after a short pause to try and gauge what the other might want, Bilbo did his best to eat without unsavory displays - his time with dwarves didn't do any good for his manners, that much was certain. He sat stiff as a board and the tension was palpable, but while he racked his brain to come up with anything to dispel it, he just couldn't think of something.   
"I make you uncomfortable.", came the low rumble from beside him, just as Bilbo contemplated how unpolite it would seem to stand up and sit on the other side of the fire. It was always like that with Thorin, on their whole journey he couldn't get far enough away from him while the other snarked and insulted, but on the other hand - what other chance of interaction with him did Bilbo have? So he kept rotating back to the king, only to be snarled at and drifting away again.   
But now the other wasn't snarling and even as he was, he tried to take it back and be nice instead. And the hobbit really, really didn't have a clue how to cope with that.   
"Oh no, of course not. Why would you - I mean - why would I -", Bilbo rambled, fingers raking nervously through his hair.  
"Stop lieing to me, for Mahals sake!", followed by an aggravated sigh. Thorin made to stand up, but changed his mind before it could look ridiculous and turned around to look directly at Bilbo.  
"I can see that you don't like having me near you, I'm neither blind nor stupid, so there is no point in lieing to me. Say it now and I will stay away from you, it's the least I could do after all the things I inflicted on you throughout our journey."  
That was probably the longest conversation they ever held, Bilbo realised and he didn't want it to stop. If Thorin could make an effort, then the curly haired hobbit could do it, too. It was better than nothing, better than staying in his smial and always asking himself "What if?". If Thorin wanted to be nice to him, who was he to turn him away? Of course he would make a total fool of himself, he was sure of it, but wouldn't that be better than having his dwarf stay away from him?  
"Stay, please. I'm really sorry, Thorin.", he said lowly and didn't see the flinch on the others face as he apologized, he already raked his brain for something to say that didn't sound moronic.  
"Did you know that my mother knitted my blanket?", he asked, clutching his fingers in his blanket and didn't see the frown on the others face, the thoughtful look crossing blue eyes, as he berated himself for indeed managing it to sound like a fool with just one sentence.

And now, another day of walking ahead of him and Thorin looking really grumpy while Bilbo tried to mingle with the others so to not get on his dwarfs nerves - he wasn't really sure which of that occured first, but it was both there now, so he didn't see reason to ponder about it - he landed walking beside Balin, who looked extremely chipper despite the fact that the night had been freezing and the hobbit was one of the few having a blanket - which he could easily share, it was big enough, but it seemed nobody wanted to hear any of that. And if maybe it hurt Bilbos feelings a little he wouldn't say a word of it.  
Now though, walking in silence beside the older dwarf, he got to think a little. Maybe he could just ask? What could it hurt? Maybe he would even get an answer he liked and if not, it wasn't as if he would be surprised, would he? So he took a deep breath, steeled himself and -

"It was a good thing ye did, laddie. A brave thing. Mostly stupid, of course, but really brave and we are all real grateful for it, just so ye know.", Balin said, twinkling at him with eyes that seemed far older than Bilbo could grasp. The hobbit got a little red around his cheeks and the steam left him at once. Maybe outright asking wouldn't be the best decision.  
"Oh, it was nothing, really, Master Balin.", he said hastily, but paused. "It's...you know, not that big a thing in the Shire. Is it different with you dwarves?" Alright, not his best approach, but he wasn't in the company for his skills in subletly, right? Not really, at least. No one believed he had it in him, himself included, and he was just given the contract in the first place because Gandalf insisted. 

"Oh, I think it quite is, ye know. Saving someones life is nothing to be looked down upon. Ye earned yerself a life debt, laddie, and one that Thorin is obviously keen to fulfill.", Balin answered, still twinkling and grinning under all that fluffy beard.   
Bilbos shoulders sagged a little, because of course it would be something like that. A debt. Thorin was just being nice because he was obligated to. That wasn't an answer he wanted to hear, but he only felt quiet resignation, because it definitely sounded right.  
"And ye know, laddie, I'm quiet well-read. Don't know if it's true, of course, but in the few books I have about hobbits they say something quiet different than it being something totally common."

The look Bilbo sported was nothing short of caught, because of course Balin would know, the dwarf had enough years on his back to read through entire libraries.  
"It isn't like that, really.", he hastened to say, trying to placate someone who didn't look remotely angry, but Bilbo had the habit of defending himself, even if that habit just started on this journey.  
"Oh, no need for that, lad, I'm sure ye'll do the right thing. But ye should know that Thorin has no idea what this situation means. Maybe ye should tell him."  
"No, Yavannah, no! Believe me, Master Balin, there is absolutely nothing about this situation that Thorin needs to know of. It's just...a debt. I will tell him that there is no need for that either and everything will go back to normal, you'll see. No need at all."  
It got him a skeptical look, but before the older dwarf could say anything Bilbo went ahead and started walking next to Dori, who just fussed a few seconds over the state of his waistcoat, but otherwise let him be.


	6. Chapter 6

"Thorin?", Bilbo asked with a timid voice that evening, standing nervously in front of the king while the rest of the company were already sleeping. The Durin took over first watch and the hobbit thought it was a good opportunity to have a little talk with his dwarf, seeing that they were just another short day walk away from Gandalfs friend - and already on his ground and in safety, said the wizard, but the dwarfs wouldn't have any of that and still took shifts taking watch.   
The blackhaired tilted his head in aknowledgement and indicated him to sit down, which Bilbo promptly did. He took a minute to get comfortable on the boulder, but just ended up sitting way too close to Thorin, so he sat back again, back stiff.  
"Balin told me...he told me that you now have a life debt with me, because I saved your life. Is that true?", he decided to start with that. That was simple - more or less, but nothing with Thorin was really simple, so he just had to take what he could get.

His question drew a short silence, only interrupted from the drumming of Thorins fingers on his scabbard, but just as he started to fidget with nervousity he heard a now familiar rumble.  
"It is true, indeed, Master Hobbit. May I ask you a question now, too?" A quick nod was enough to get him to continue. "That blanket, the one your mother knitted..." He paused and Bilbo got red in his face, because of all the things to ask, it had to be about that. 

"I once met a small child, a hobbit child. He said his mother had to knit him blankets, because it was going to be cold once he had to live in a cavern. Once I married him." The red had to look almost purple now as his toes curled inwards. He remembered. Even if he didn't remember it was him, he remembered. And to be honest, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted Thorin to know it was him, now that he had the choice. He looked to the dwarf out of the corner of his eyes and was met with a heated look from not-quiet cornflower blue.   
"Well, yeah. It's - ehm - you know. Common. Quiet common for mothers to - well, knit. Blankets, socks. That sort of stuff. My Ma always knitted blankets. Got lots of those. Whole cupboard full of 'em.", the hobbit stammered, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

He risked another glance and saw the others gaze wavering, uncertainty mixing with other emotions he couldn't begin to decipher and before he could stop his mouth from being stupid he just continued talking.  
"And I'm pretty sure I said caves." There was a pause again. "And I hit my head."

"So it was you, then?", Thorin asked. The hobbit shrugged uncomfortably. "And you wanted to marry me." He was sure as all hell purple in his face now, he was far too horrified for red.   
"I was a faunt, no need to tease me about it.", he pressed through clenched teeth, but was cut off by a hand on his arm.  
"It wasn't my intent to tease you. I just thought about it. At that time, all I thought was that you hit your head pretty bad and were just talking nonsense. But Balin said something this evening. He said that life debts weren't the thing you settled life-saving matters with. He wouldn't tell me how you did settle them, but..." He left the sentence between them, giving Bilbo the chance to lie and be done with it if he wanted to, but all those years came back to the hobbit.

He always thought that Thorin just didn't want him. He thought something was wrong with him for him to be spurned, but now he knew that the dwarf just didn't know. That he probably just didn't want a life debt from a child and left as soon as he could, never looking back, because why would he? All those years his heart was breaking he was just a small child talking nonsense! And if that didn't spur him on to speak his mind now, to speak the truth, nothing could. All those years he mourned his love, his betrothed and the dwarf didn't even knew it! What could have happened if Thorin knew? He would have propably just told him that no, he wouldn't marry him. And Bilbo would have been sad, of course, but he wouldn't have thought to marry the dwarf for over ten long years just to have his heart crushed as the other never showed. The dwarf could have told him about the life debt, that their races just had different ways to go about things and Bilbo would have pestered him for details, always hungry for knowledge about the outer world and he would have understood.

All those years, just because of a simple misunderstanding.

"In the Shire - it is custom to - It is custom to marry the one that saves your life. It shows that your betrothed can protect you and is willing to go to all lenghts for you, just to keep you safe. Why marry another when all that is needed is already right in front of you?", Bilbo answered at last, losing his determined edge halfway through and ending in a whisper. There was another silence, but it wasn't tense anymore between them. Thorin seemed to contemplate what was said and the little hobbit just waited for him to come to terms with it.  
"Did you - Did you think I knew it? All those years, did you - ", the dwarf stopped, seemingly embarrassed by the question he was about to ask.  
"What, did I wait for you, you mean? Of course not.", Bilbo scoffed and the dwarf beside him tensed, now tight as a bowstring. The hobbit considered his next words carefully, because the atmosphere turned down again and he just couldn't stand that anymore, now that he experienced something like relaxed quiet just one time. This was his dwarf, his Thorin, his saviour and he wouldn't just stand by anymore and take whatever the other deemed to give him. Maybe he could do something to help things along - maybe he could still hope.

"I didn't wait for you, no. Well, the last years I didn't. I needed a few years after I reached my maturity to accept the fact that you wouldn't come and fetch me. I - I just never thought about the possibility that you didn't know. It's common in the Shire, I just didn't - ", he sighed a little, shrugging one shoulder, turning away from Thorins heavy gaze. "I waited, yes, longer than I'm proud of, to be honest. But then I realized - well, I say realized, but I always thought you knew, you know? - I realized that you just didn't want me. That's alright, perfectly alright, it just isn't - well, it isn't respectable, because if my dwarf didn't want me then there had to be something wrong with me, right? Well, I know now that that wasn't the case, I mean that shouldn't mean you would have wanted me, you wouldn't of course, but I accepted it. That you didn't. So it was - I'm not saying easy, but it was better, kinda." He was talking himself into an early grave, but he couldn't seem to stop, so he just didn't. Thorin seemed near now, nearer than before and he could feel his eyes growing wide as the other just came nearer.

"I wouldn't have wanted you, no. You were a child. But if I told you that I - " A deep breath and Bilbo could feel it on his own lips. "You saved my life. If you still wanted to, I wouldn't be opposed to - " He looked like he was in pain now, eyes clenched shut and mouth pinched, clearly unsatisfied with his words and the hobbits mind ran a mile a minute, his ever childish hope warring with his reason, his loyalty to Thorin fighting sanity but still the fool in him won and he leaned over the last inches closing the gap between them.

Everything seemed to still at that. He couldn't hear the snores of their companions, the noises of the wild, the rush of the wind. All he could hear was the little gasp from the lips against his. His entire world consisted of Thorin, as it always had to a point, but now he could feel him - dry, chapped lips against his, chest still as strong as he remembered under his fingers, beard scratching softly against his cheek - was surrounded by his scent - sweat and leather and smoke and something that made him want to bury his face in the others long locks, something entirely Thorin - and was able to taste the last remnants of their sparse dinner on lips that were still unresponding. He heaved a sigh and sat back. Not surprising, if he was honest. He wanted it to be different, of course, but he wasn't a little faunt anymore.   
"I don't want your life debt, Thorin. There is nothing to repay to me for saving your life. We can call it even, can't we? And then everything can go back to - normal.", he faltered in the end, because he didn't want it to go back to what was normal on most of their quest. He didn't want the other to hate him again, but it would be better than false kindness because of a debt, he was sure. 

He just wanted to stand up, was already half off the boulder as there were arms all around him and he got pulled against his most favourite person in all of middle earth.  
"Alright. No life debts. But I want your promise.", he felt it rumble just under his cheek.  
"What promise?", he whispered, burying himself into the other, now that he had the chance again. Who knew when Thorin would change his mind again?  
"Your hand. I want your hand in marriage the second we set foot into Erebor. I saved your life, didn't I? It's already mine. And you saved mine, so my hand can be yours. If you want it. If you still want me." He paused and Bilbo didn't know - a lot of things, thats for sure. But first of he didn't actually knew if he was even still awake, because what exactly did Thorin just say? 

"I know I was an idiot the last weeks. I was - unkind. Unjust. You didn't deserve half my ill words and the half you did I could have delivered differently. I am - I am sorry. For the way I treated you. And for making you wait. And it's probably not enough, and probably it's too soon, but I - I can't explain it. Now that I know, it's like - I wish I had known. I know you now and you are - and I want you by my side. And I need to prove my worth to you again, show you that I can, in fact, keep you safe and then maybe - maybe you still want to be with me then. Could you - would you at least consider it?"

It must have cost him a lot to get those words out, Bilbo decided, still complete stumped with the direction things were taking right now. Who could have known? Hoped, of course he had. Somewhere deep down he was still the faunt that waited for his betrothed to sweep him off his feet. And now that he had the chance -  
"No.", he whispered. There was a shiver in the dwarfs body before it slumped a little, he probably wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't buried in his chest. "I don't want a promise, Thorin. But - we could try something else - something more common. We could just - be. And if it ends in marriage I'm going to be the happiest hobbit to ever wander middle earth, but I can't - I don't think I could trust such a promise again. So we could just - get to know each other. And if you don't think it's good, then you don't have to marry me. We could try to fix it, then, but - well. There is no necessity. You can walk out every time you like. Alright?"

Hands on his shoulders pushed him back a little and deep blue eyes peered down at him.  
"That goes for you, too, then. I won't hold it against you. I made mistakes and I - I don't know where to start to make it up - " Earnest words said in a grave voice and Bilbo had to smile.  
"You'll know when you see it.", he just said, because everything was alright right now and he couldn't care less about the past weeks, couldn't care less about any debts Thorin thought he needed to pay. He just leant forward again and this time he got a response without having to wait for it. And after they woke Dwalin for his watch Bilbo wasn't alone under his blanket for the first time ever, snuggled deep into a strong chest he knew most of his life. 

The next day, while walking in front of the rest of the company, trying to be as subtle as he possibly could and still be near his dwarf he caught Thorin throwing him a speculative glance. Before he could ask, however, the king bent down and plucked something from the ground, shoving it directly under the hobbits nose. He had to go cross-eyed to see what it was, before he laughed, took it from the outstretched hand and plucked it behind his ear.

Thorin had given him a cornflower.

**Author's Note:**

> I found different meanings for the symbolism of cornflowers, but I'm just going to stick with this one, because it's practically perfect for the stories purpose.
> 
> "The cornflower has been used as a symbol of tenderness, of fidelity, and of reliability"
> 
> Just so you know.


End file.
